


pieces of you

by tuesdead



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Female Sam Winchester, Fluffy?, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mentioned injuries, Mentions of Rape, POV Dean Winchester, Sibling Incest, basically "pieces of me" from Dean's point of view, but with more than flashback scenes, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:38:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesdead/pseuds/tuesdead
Summary: "pieces of me" from Dean's POV, but with a lot more plot and an actual ending.





	pieces of you

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't finished the story that this is based off of, yet, but I'll get around to it. It's harder to write female!sam from her point of view than it is Dean's.

**_pieces of you_ **

Dean cleared his throat, eyes burning. “Stay safe, okay?”

His little sister – and she’d always be little to him, even if she was the same height – tried for a smile. “You know I will, D.”

God, he wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to let go, to let her go. He didn’t think he ever would be. Sam was his little sister, his favorite person in the world, the center of his universe. What was he going to do with her gone?

“You’ll call if you need me?”

She chuckled, but it caught in her throat, and Dean swore her hands were shaking. “I’ll probably call a lot until I get used to… you know.”

“Sammy–”

She opened the passenger door, grabbing her bag from the floor between her feet. “Take care of yourself, Dean. Please?”

He nodded. He didn’t trust his voice just then. He was up out of the car and catching her wrist before she was very far, just so he could drag her into a hug.

“Stay safe jerk.”

She took a deep breath. “You too, bitch,” she finally answered. “Love you, D. I gotta go.”

He nodded, stepped back. “Go, Sammy. Don’t look back.”

She didn’t.

-

_ Dean glanced at Bobby before dropping the baseball glove to run after his little sister. “Sammy! Sam! Come on!” _

_ He paused when he noticed that there was a part of the dirt road that looked different – like somebody had slid to home base. Well, except there was no home base. Sam was hurt. “Sammy, please! Quit hiding!” _

_ He saw her then, climbing onto the hood of one of the broken down cars in Bobby’s junkyard. He stood and watched her for a moment before moving closer, knowing she probably felt bad, but was too stubborn to say so. “Sam! What the hell did you run off for?” _

_ Her shoulders were tense and she said nothing. _

_ “Sammy, come on.” _

_ “Why didn’t you just stay with Bobby?” Her voice broke a little, but she wasn’t crying. She was pissed off. Dean’s own emotions took on a red tinge. _

_ “Because you ran off. If you get hurt, Dad’s gonna blame me.” _

_ She scoffed. “No, he’s going to blame me for doing something stupid. He always does.” _

_ He wanted to roll his eyes, because Sam was the one who always needed a  _ reason  _ to do as she was told. “Then maybe you should start listening.” _

_ “If you came here to lecture me for all my mistakes,” she started, crossing her arms, “then you can leave.” _

_ The fight left him. “Sammy, get down from there. Let’s just go back to the house and we can watch a movie or something.” _

_ “You’re supposed to be playing catch with Bobby. Just go, I’m fine.” _

_ “Sam, come on. I said no ’cause there are only two gloves.” He shuffled his feet, uncomfortable with the lie. It was obvious, and Sam caught it immediately, but it was too late to tell her the truth. It’s not often Dean got time without Sam around, and he’d thought it was what he wanted until the second she was out of his sight. _

_ “Dean, it doesn’t matter. Go on, it’s fine.” _

_ He couldn’t bring himself to leave her. “Why won’t you look at me?” _

_ “I like the view up here,” she said, and Dean could tell she was lying, that she was still mad at him. It left a bad taste in his mouth, so he just played along. _

_ “It’s a bunch of trees.” _

_ “So? I like trees, Dean. Go tell Bobby I’m fine. I’m not getting eaten, I didn’t fall in a well. I’m not helpless.” _

_ He sighed, but he knew she wasn’t going to calm down if he stayed, so he turned on his heel and headed back toward Bobby’s house. He found the man inside, gloves forgotten on the porch, on the phone with a hunter, researching inside the library. Dean sighed and went back outside, finding his own spot in the junkyard to lick his wounds. _

-

_ Dean watched Sam sleep, sometimes. When she was sick, or hurt, or having nightmares that she swore only went away when he was nearby. Sometimes just because he could. Dad did, too, occasionally, but it was usually Dean. _

_ She was always too thin, too lean, too blunt to be like those girls he saw at every new school, in every new town, in all the random diners and bars. A dark whisper in his head said that was what he liked about her, on top of everything else. She always said she was glad she didn’t have hips like them, breasts like them, that she wasn’t as short as them. That she was almost tall enough to look Dean in the eye. That she never needed to dress like a whore or wear high heels. _

_ It was pretty obvious by the time she was fifteen that Sam wasn’t like other girls her age. Dean figured that was inevitable, but he also thought it was partially his fault. He was too invested in her, held her too tightly. Had too much of a claim on her. _

_ “D?” _

_ He looked up from his own hands, finding his little sister watching him, squinting against the dim lighting in the hospital room. “Hey, Sammy. How do you feel?” _

_ “Weird.” _

_ He nodded. “Yeah, that’s all the medicine.” _

_ “I thought we weren’t supposed to do hospitals, Dean?” She looked confused, and Dean wondered if she remembered how badly hurt she was. _

_ “Even Dad couldn’t argue we had to take the risk, Sammy. That werewolf tried to spill your guts on the sidewalk.” _

_ She blinked a few times. “Didja kill it?” _

_ He nodded. “Yeah.” _

_ “Then it was worth it.” _

_ “Sammy, you were supposed to stay in the car for this one.” _

_ She grinned, keeping his gaze. “I know, but I had a bad feeling. When I got there, Dad was unconscious, you were pinned, and I took a risk.” _

_ A part of him wondered if she would regret it, but throughout the entire time she was healing, she didn’t complain once about her injury, beyond wishing she was allowed to walk around more. _

_ The thing was, they had almost lost her twice before they got her to stabilize so that they could stitch her wounds, internal and otherwise. Dean hadn’t been able to sleep until they told him she’d be fine, and he was glad that Dad left for a new job after that. It gave him time to figure out what he was feeling – which was more than the typical reaction to almost losing your sibling. _

_ When Sam had opened her eyes, he’d had the questionable urge to kiss her senseless, and if that was normal, then Dean was missing something crucial from his education. _

-

Dean unlocked the door to his motel room and tossed his duffel onto the bed, realizing a moment too late that he’d asked for a double even though he only needed one bed. It finally hit him all at once, that Sammy wasn’t coming back. She was done with the life, done with Dad, done with Dean.

She was done with Dean.

It was like a knife had lodged itself in his chest and he needed to pull it out, stitch the wound before an infection set in.

But the truth was, Dean  _ was  _ the infection. He’d held her too close, he’d loved her too much, and she must have seen it.

-

_ “Dean? Dean, wake up.” _

_ Dean was awake, had been for more than an hour now, ever since Sammy had yelled out in her sleep. “What’s up, Sammy?” _

_ She was tiny, and she crawled onto his bed. It’d been a month since the shtriga tried to steal her life-force away, and he hadn’t been able to forgive himself, and neither had Dad. Dean couldn’t even blame him. He knew that he’d give anything to fix his mistake, but he didn’t know how. “I can’t sleep,” she mumbles, and Dean wondered what she saw in her dreams. _

_ “What’s wrong?” he whispered back to her, wrapping his arms around her. _

_ “Fire,” she whispered back, and he can hear the sadness in her voice, even though they hadn’t yet told her how Mom died. “I saw fire, and something red and sticky. It filled my throat, I couldn’t breathe. A man with yellow eyes was standing over me.” _

_ Dean decided not to tell Dad. “Don’t worry, Sammy. I’ve got you.” _

-

Dean stumbled through Bobby’s front door, trailing blood as he went.

Bobby wasn’t as good at fixing up wounds as he used to be, so Dean didn’t really mind when he asked somebody to step in. What he wasn’t expecting, of course, was for his little sister to patch him up with the gentlest touch he’d felt in the longest time.

Once he got his hands on her shoulders, he found it hard to remove them, but when Bobby pointed out the man – thing – behind him, he had to turn away.

They took a walk and she told him – pausing every once in a while – that angels, heaven, hell, everything was real. And then he found out that she’d been kidnapped right after their fight.

Sammy, stuck in Hell with the Devil. Little Sammy, his baby sister, and more importantly, his entire world. How was he supposed to let her go now? When she wasn’t safe anywhere? Forget about the fact that she seemed to have a guardian angel – nobody knew how to take care of Sammy better than Dean. How was he supposed to let her walk away again, knowing what he knew now?

“Sammy, I’m sorry.”

She sounded confused, asking what he meant, and he cleared his throat. “If I hadn’t been such an ass, maybe–”

She interrupted him, talking about the devil and his cage and the end of the world – it hit him then, and he had to ask. “Sam, were you tor—were you tortured?”

“It was Hell, Dean. Of course I was tortured. But I’m going to be okay.”

He looked at her, that old knife buried still in his chest, and she held open her arms, smiling a little, something private.

-

_ Dean rubbed his eyes, head foggy. Sammy was leaning forward in one of the chairs from the table in their motel room, staring at her hands. She looked horrible, dark circles under her eyes, pale in the dim lighting the kitchenette offered. _

_ “Sammy?” _

_ Her head snapped up, eyes searching his face, taking in his appearance. She forced him to drink water, holding up his head with ease, she was stronger than Dean had realized. “Sammy, is–” _

_ She smiled a little, interrupting him to tell him Dad wasn’t back yet. That it was hardly daylight outside, that he’d almost bled to death. He wondered why he wasn’t tied down. He felt like he’d been torn to shreds, and it was protocol to tie each other down with silver if they’d been injured that badly while hunting wolves. She was only fourteen, maybe she’d forgotten, but Dean didn’t think so. He had to ask. _

_ “Because I could tell that it wasn’t a bite wound,” she answered, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Dean wondered what exactly that meant, and then, when he realized he wasn’t wearing the same clothes, felt himself blushing. She didn’t seem to notice as she went about changing his bandages. He didn’t have time to think about it longer than that, though, because the cell phone began to ring. _

-

Dean wasn’t sure why, but he felt like some pivotal piece of information was about to slip out of Sammy’s mouth. Now, he was mostly sure that this wasn’t Sammy – Sammy had died and Dean wasn’t there and it was his fault – but he had to listen to her, because he couldn’t risk leaving her if she was really there with him.

“Dean, the scars on your stomach, the ones from the werewolf hunt when you were eighteen. Do you remember that?”

Dean blinked at her from across the table. What kind of question was that? “Yes. I passed out as soon as I got to the motel. You were fourteen.”

She nodded. “Protocol would have been me tying you to the bed with silver. I told you I didn’t because I could tell you hadn’t been bitten.” He watched her drop her fork and turn her head to look out the window. “I didn’t actually know whether you had been bitten or not. I was just okay with dying if it meant I wasn’t going to lose you. I never wanted to lose you.”

The knife stuck in Dean’s chest twisted. “Sammy, why would you say something like that?”

She shook her head at him, as if she didn’t understand why he was upset. “It’s the truth. I was never going to tell you, but lately, you’ve been… I’ve been worried.”

-

Dean watched his little sister watching her son with attentive eyes, mind reeling. Sammy was alive. It had to be true, because what she’d told him about being okay with dying by his hand like that, it wasn’t something he could have come up with on his own, crazy or not, and that meant it was true.

It was  _ true _ . He remembered wondering why she hadn’t been able to look at him when she’d lied to him. She’d gotten very good at lying over the years, but Dean knew she’d been rattled after having to stitch him up, and he’d have been able to read the lie plainly if she’d looked at him.

“Dean?”

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and met her gaze. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you were okay,” she said, chewing her lip. Alex was watching him, eyes searching, and after a moment, the boy offered a smile.

Dean smiled back and nodded at his sister. “I’m fine, Sammy.”

And he was. He felt better than he had in awhile, but he did have questions, things he didn’t fully understand about the situation. He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to get his answers.

“Castiel, will you take me home? They have to finish their job.”

Dean frowned, watching his nephew – god, his nephew. He had a nephew.

“Alex?” Sam asked, just as confused.

“Hunting is your job,” he said, sure of himself. “And I can see you when you get back. You won’t be gone that long. He won’t leave me.”

Castiel looked dumbfounded, watching for Sam’s reaction, but after watching Alex for a moment, she offered the angel a smile. “Cas, don’t look at me like that. Of course I trust you, as long as you can spare a few days?”

-

“What just happened?”

Sam looked over at him, the dim street lights passing by every few seconds. “Alex’s giving us time to talk some things through.”

After a moment, Dean felt the words fighting to spill out of his mouth, off his tongue. For the first time, he let them. “Bobby did his best to separate me from you because I loved you too much. Dad told him I was too handsy, too watchful. That my eyes were on you for the wrong reasons.”

To Sam’s credit, she didn’t even fidget. “I never heard a word about it.”

“There was never any reason that you should. No matter what, Dad and Bobby both knew I’d never do anything to hurt you. That there was no reason for you to be afraid or uncomfortable with me.”

If she moved at all, she moved closer. Dean couldn’t tell.

“When’s the last time you heard from Dad?”

“A week ago. He calls from time to time. Sometimes I answer. I didn’t tell him about the bunker. That’s your home, didn’t feel right inviting him without your permission.”

Sam nodded, and when Dean glanced at her, she looked happier than he remembered her being since before she’d left for college.

The knife loosened.

“Maybe we should call him later. After all, the demon he’s been hunting? His name was Azazel, and he’s dead.”

“So… if that demon’s dead…?”

“I’m sure he’ll find another to hunt, but we could at least tell him that the yellow eyed demon is dead. The yellow eyes meant he was a knight of Hell, sort of like a prince. One of the first demons ever to be turned.”

“You sure do like your research, Sammy.” But maybe things could slow down a bit, now.

“D?”

He hummed, but he didn’t quite feel settled, knowing that she knew.

“Were they right? Did you love me too much?”

_ Oh _ . He hadn’t really said it, had he? And Sammy… sometimes she didn’t want to try to read between the lines, although, over the years, Dean had learned that she tried not to assume things when she wanted them to be real.

“Yeah, Sammy. Truth is, I never could stop.”

She didn’t lean away, didn’t fidget, hardly reacted beyond a small smile. “Okay.”

“What, you’re not gonna run for the hills?”

She rolled her eyes, making that face. “Dean. Like you said, I’ve never had any reason to doubt you. I’m not going to start now.”

-

Alex jumped into Sammy’s arms the minute they reached the bunker’s kitchen, and she didn’t fight the smile that lit up her whole face.

Dean loved her and it hurt.

“So, what did you and Cas get up to, huh?”

“I have wings!” he cheered, grinning. “I don’t know how to work them yet, but Castiel promised I’d grow into them.”

“That’s amazing, Alex. What else did Cas teach you?”

“That I can learn how to heal people. And that I can hear angels, if I try really hard.”

Dean left his baby sister to dote on her son, heading for his bedroom and the room beyond, where he could get a hot shower and finally sleep off some of the strange emotions he didn’t have the guts to deal with just yet.

Alex seemed to age a year as every month passed, and when the end of the year cam around, he was a fully grown teenager, and fully capable of using his grace. A part of Dean had wondered, only for a moment, if he’d be something like the devil, but immediately, Dean knew better. Alex was everything like his mother, nothing like his ‘father’. And Dean was so, so proud of him.

-

“He adores you, you know,” Sam muttered, holding her coffee mug just below her lips. It was early, too early, but Dean hadn’t been able to sleep, knowing Dad was on his way to the bunker.

“Who?”

“Alex,” she said fondly, rolling her eyes. “Who else? You already know Cas is find of you, and Dad’s a different story.”

“What are you going to tell Dad about him?” It was the one thing Dean was really worried about – Dad’s reaction to the sweet teen who seemed to have stopped growing, finally.

“I don’t know,” she answered, cocking her head. “Dad doesn’t exactly trust me, per se, because of the demon blood –”

“The what?”

She blinked at him, startled. “Oh. Oh, Dean. I never realized that Cas didn’t tell you. He told me after he pulled me out of Hell. Mom died because of me, Dean. The demon was in my room because he was feeding me his blood. It was his job, because I’m meant to be a vessel – Lucifer’s vessel. So that he and Michael can have their big fight and end the world or whatever.”

“Sammy, Mom didn’t die  _ because  _ of you. She died because she wanted to protect you. The only thing Dad ever told me about it, after you went away, was that, no matter what, you were always worth protecting. I suppose that’s what he was referring to, Sammy. He never needed to tell me, of course. I’d die for you in a heartbeat, nothing you can do about it.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but cut herself off when three heavy knocks fell onto the thick steel door. Dean followed her to the stairs but stayed at the bottom, coffee in hand, waiting.

“Hey, Dad,” she breathed, and Dean couldn’t help but smile when Dad pulled her into a hug. “Hey, you’re hurt,” she said after he pulled away.

“Not a big deal, Sammy. Where’s your brother?”

She tossed Dean a grin and led Dad down the stairs.

Dean hadn’t really expected Dad to pull him into a hug, as well, but he’d take it, of course he would, because things would work out, as they always did.

“Tell me everything,” he said, sitting across from them at one of the big wooden tables, and he wasn’t drinking alcohol, which was something Dean had been expecting. Instead, he gripped a mug filled with hot chocolate, muttering about how coffee gave him chest pains.

“I got dragged into hell,” Sam offered, and this time, when she said it, she didn’t sound so sad anymore. “The devil knocked me up.”

Dad blinked, shocked.

“I died for a little while after I had the baby, but I’m good now,” she added.

“You’ve got a kid,” was what Dad decided to touch on.

Sammy grinned. “His name is Alex, and he’s part angel. He’s all grown up, now. He’s not home right now, but he will be later.”

Dad turned to Dean.

He struggled to find words. “I thought I’d lost my mind when Sammy came back to life, but I’m convinced now.”

“What was it like?” Dad asked. Dean wasn’t sure what he meant. “With Sammy gone, Dean,” he added, softer.

“Um… Kind of like the world was ripping apart at the seems.” He tried not to, but he glanced at Sammy anyway, surprised that she was watching him already, unwavering.

“Yeah,” Dad said, and he smiled. “What was Heaven like, Sammy?”

“You’ve been there, haven’t you?” she asked, cocking her head.

He nodded, but he seemed lighter than he had in years.

“It was missing something,” she finally answered. “Some vital piece.”

“Do you know what it was?”

Sammy nodded. “Yeah, I do. I just don’t want to screw it up.”

Dad smiled at her. “I don’t think, at this point, that screwing  _ that  _ up is even possible, Sammy. Don’t worry.”

“How’d you figure it out?”

“I had way too much time by myself, and way too many close calls. I got to thinking.”

-

“Hey, you okay?” Dad had gone to bed a few hours ago, after meeting and accepting Alex, but Dean couldn't sleep, and apparently, neither could she.

“What was Heaven like, Sammy?”

“It was a cabin by the lake during summer. The one in northern California.”

Somewhere the two of them had been before, then. Wait. “Sammy, what was missing?”

She smiled, and the knife fell away from Dean’s heart, hope rearing up in him like an ocean wave. “You, D. Always you.”

And that was enough.


End file.
